


The Other Shoe

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after he shows up on her doorstep, Lisa wakes up in the middle of the night to find Dean packing a bag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Shoe

Four months after he shows up on her doorstep, Lisa wakes in the middle of the night to find Dean packing a bag. She isn't given even the momentary lull of sleepy confusion. Dread immediately knots and crumples in her throat. She sits up in their bed, and Dean stiffens and jerks instantly. His reflexes are still sure, but they've been twitchy and scared for months now. Whatever happened in Kansas, it had left its mark, scraped Dean hollow. Lisa hadn't seen this coming. But she's not surprised it's happening now.

"Dean."

Dean's eyes flash green in the dark, wide, glossy. She sees him, silhouetted in the streetlight that filters through their bedroom curtains. His mouth is set in a long, tight line. 

"I can't stay. You know I can't stay."

Lisa wraps her arms around her legs, still half covered by the blanket. She rests her chin on her knees. "Why?"

Visibly, she sees Dean flinch. He runs one hand through his hair, rubs the back of his neck. "You know why. I can't-- I can't-- I'm not doing you any good here, Lisa."

Lisa sighs, just barely. "I haven't asked you to, Dean."

"Haven't asked me t--" Dean breaks off in a laugh, a dry, bitter sound. "No. You just let me in."

"Of course I did," says Lisa.

"And that's why I have to go."

"Dean." Exasperated.

"What?" Dean is sparked now, and Lisa sees his hackles rising, revving to defend his right to destruct.

Lisa is tired. "Just... come back to bed."

"I can't."

Lisa cracks her eyes open again. Dean stands at the foot of the bed. His fists are clenched. He still looks hollow. "Yes you can," she says. "It's right here."

" _Lisa."_ Dean sounds frustrated. "You can't just... say that like it's easy. Like I'm not... like I'm not terrible for you here. Not a total mess. These last four months, I've just fucked up your life. You know I have."

And Lisa feels the first threads of her own frustration blur angry, feels her voice tighten and snap when she asks Dean, "Are you freaking serious? What do you call _leaving me_ in the middle of the night?"

"It's better this way," Dean mumbles in retort.

Lisa sits straight up. Words pour from her mouth now; "And Ben? What about Ben? How am I supposed to explain to him that you just up and left us in the middle of the night? That you couldn't take being here, so you ran." Lisa kicks off the covers and swings her legs over the side of the bed. She wants to feel her feet on solid ground. "Jesus, Dean. You're supposed to pick up Ben from soccer practice tomorrow. Were you just going to bail on that?"

Dean shrugs. "I honestly hadn't thought about it," he tells her, and there's a dare to his tone--like had Lisa really expected him to think about things like _soccer practice_ when he was right in the middle of an epic brood--that makes Lisa want to scream. She knows that Dean has been through something, she does. She thinks he probably saved the world. Dean is haunted, but sometimes Lisa thinks he uses it like a cloak, to push people away, to keep her from truly getting in. He kisses her in the mornings and it's sweet and she feels loved, but she also feels Dean holding back, and she wants (oh she wants) to coax him forward, but at the same time she's furious that this big damn hero thinks he can just drop himself onto her and her kid's life and then bolt without leaving a bloody gash.

"You're a part of something right now, Dean," Lisa tells him, settling for blunt but quiet. She stands. "Whether you thought that through or not. You mean something to us now. Do you get that? You _mean_ something." She moves forward. "And not because of what you can do, or what you might take. Just. Just being here. That's important. You get that, right?" 

Lisa looks at Dean, really looks at him. He seems weary. His hands are limp around the grey t-shirt he still holds. Lisa bites her lip. "Don't you?"

"I." Dean looks profoundly lost. The t-shirt slips from his wan grip. "I don't know how to."

"Dean." Lisa stands almost toe to toe with Dean now. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, feels the delicate hints of his shudder. "You don't have to know anything right now. You just have to try." Her gaze flicks up, so she can look Dean in the eye. He looks frustrated, and terrified. Vulnerable, even. Lisa feels her anger wither.

"I love you," she says quietly. "Ben loves you. But if that's not enough, I- I won't stop you. I can't, not really. But if you think it won't kill me, to know that to you, our _family_ is so dispensable when I--" Lisa's voice breaks and cracks. Her grips on Dean's wrist tightens, and then slackens altogether.

Dean catches Lisa's hand before it can fall back to her side, and Lisa can feel hope flutter, lonely and suspicious, in her heart. "I don't know how," he says again. Dean looks at the floor, like it's too hard to get out the next words while looking anywhere but at his feet, and Lisa wonders what he doesn't want her to see. "I don't even know how to ask how."

Lisa squeezes his hand. "Don't ask anything, then," she says. "Just come back to bed."

Dean falters, and he crumbles. And Lisa hopes he'll pick up Ben tomorrow, kick around in the park for awhile after like he promised, make scrambled eggs, fall asleep on the couch wearing socks and listening to bad classic rock. She wants him to realize that they are better when they are together, the three of them, whole and calm and at home. She knows there's a chance that he won't -- that she'll have to add midnight runs to the list with nightmares and drained liquor bottles and closed off, faraway stares. He's complicated and miserable, her beautiful, broken man, but he's kind and he's endless, and he clicks into Lisa's life, whether he realizes it or not.

And he spends the night.


End file.
